Hidden CDs and Secrets
by ibreak4CSI
Summary: Oneshot GC friendship humor. Just read!


Summary: Response to the Graveshift "hidden cache" challenge.

Rating: K plus, CSI-1 for a couple of naughty words

Notes: I realize that Gil might be a little (little!) OOC, but whatever! ) BTW, I am not dissing country at all. I love country music! It is awesome! And some of the statements Catherine makes are generally the thoughts of a couple of my friends who don't listen to country because they don't like it. Strange people! ;b

2note: All mistakes are mine. I did not feel like reading over it really thoroughly when I was done, so there are probably a few! Sorry!

Disclaimer: Not mine, as always! And I own none of the songs mentioned in this fic, although every one of them are absolutely awesome!

.:Hidden CDs and Secrets:.

"Catherine! What are you doing here?" It was not just a surprised greeting, I noticed. He seemed almost...nervous.

"Just stopping by. Are you okay? Or did I just come at a bad time?" He seemed to snap out of it, and stepped back from the door to let me in.

"No, no. It's fine. Come on in." I stepped past him and went straight to the kitchen to fix myself a screwdriver.

"Alcohal?"

"Rough night, Gil. You know that. You were there."

"True. Want to talk about it?"

"No, I'm fine. Just tired."

"Oh, okay."

Awkward silence reigned for a few moments as I sat down on his couch and turned on the tv.

"Would you mind if I left you here alone? I was in the middle of cleaning my room when you came and..."

"It's fine. I can take care of myself, Gil." I said teasingly.

I could have sworn I heard him mutter "You certainly can." under his breath, but when I turned to look at him, he showed nothing, just turned to walk back towards his room. I wonder what he has back there. Unlike his office, Gil's bedroom was usually pretty neat. And he had seemed pretty secretive when talking about it. And how I would love to know just one of the many secrets of that man... As much as I tried to control it, which I will admit wasn't alot, my curiosity got the best of me. What can I say? I'm a CSI, I'm supposed to be curious. I sneaked down the hall towards his room, careful to avoid the one squeaky floorboard I had been here enough times to recognize.

When I pushed open the door, it was to find Gil standing up on tiptoes, replacing a box to the top of his closet shelf.

Grinning, I pulled the door shut, counted to ten, and opened it again.

"Hey, Gil. What's taking you so long back here?"

The closet door was shut now, and he wasn't even by it.

"Nothing. I was actually just about to come and join you."

"I am actually kind of tired. You think I could take a nap on your bed?"

A concerned look crossed his face.

"Of course. Are you sure you're okay, Catherine?"

"I already told you. I'm fine. Is it a crime to want to take a nap?"

"Okay. Okay. Do you want me to wake you up at a certain time?"

"Nope. I may not even sleep. May just rest. Bye."

I realized my rushing might cause some concern and curiosity, but I really didn't care. I wanted to see what was in that box.

"Okay, then. Goodnight, Catherine." He said, looking at me curiously. But a few seconds later, the door was shut, and I listened for footsteps in the hallway before padding sofly over to the closet. Thankfully the door wasn't squeaky, and I stretched to reach the box.

Dang. I wasn't tall enough. I looked around the room for something to stand on. There was a chair over by his desk. It was a twirling chair, but there was nothing else to stand on. Dragging it over to the closet, I was careful not to make any noise, so as not to alert Gil. Even as long as we have been friends, I know he would not take kindly to me snooping through his private things.

Okay, mission accomplished. The box was in my hands. Now for the interesting part-getting back down. I managed to do that, and was quite proud of myself. I lowered myself down on the matress, and opened the box to find...magazines? Forensics magazines to be exact. I flipped through a couple to make sure they were really what they said they were. They were. Dang, did this man have no secrets I could find? There had to be something else. I wnt through the rest of the box and found nothing.

Sighing, I got back up to replace the box when I noticed the box that had been sitting behind this one. It was a little smaller, but not much. I knew it was probably just some more boring magazines, but something inside of me refused to believe that. I guess I was just in a curious mood today. Climbing back up on the chair, I reached farther back to get it. I sat back down on the bed again. Mentally crossing my fingers, I opened the box. When I discovered its contents, my eyes widened farther than I thought possible, and I barely surpressed a gasp. Kenny Chesney. Rascall Flatts. Toby Keith. Oh, my God, Gil listens to country music. The box was filled with country CDs. Wow. I never would have pegged Gil as a "country" sort of guy. Nick, yes, but Gil? Unbidden, a laugh slipped out, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. Quickly, I replaced the CDs, careful to keep them in the same order that they were before. I closed the flaps on the box, remembering not to fold them so it was shut, but rather leaving them loose, I wonder how Gil can do that. It always bugs me. I knew that most likely, Gil would not come back here unless he heard something out of the ordinary. Nevertheless, I hurried to replace the boxes. Unfortunately, I climbed a little too fast and lost my balance. The next thing I knew, I let out a yelp and fell backwards, spilling the contents of the box I was holding all around me.

Uhoh. I had a slight feeling that Gil heard that. I cringed as I heard his footsteps. He should reach the door right about... The door flew open, and Gil appeared in the doorway.

"Catherine! Are you alright..."

I smiled sheepishly as his eyes moved from me to the box on the bed, to the one lying upside down on the floor, to the chair by the closet, to the avalanche of CDs surrounding me.

I squished my eyes shut, not wanting to see his reaction. I was sure that it was not going to be good. Surprisingly, I heard nothing. Yikes. I hesitatingly let one eye ease open. The confusion had left his face, now replaced by a combination of sheepishness, a hint of defenciveness, and...amusement? He was laughing at me? He was laughing at me! Both of my eyes were open now, and I slowly climbed to my feet, not injured except my very much wounded pride. I narrowed my eyes, annoyed that he was laughing at me when I should be the one to have the upper hand at the moment.

"What!"

"Catherine, you should have seen your face."

My face? What was wrong with it?

"And I see you know know my deepest, darkest secret." I couldn't believe he managed to keep a straigh face saying that. I mean, hello, he had always acted like he didn't like country at all.

"That you actually like all the guitar strumming along with the men crooning about being left alone, and the sappy love songs?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

I accomplished my goal of retaining the upper hand as his amused look faded, leaving more embarassment, with a hint of stubborness in its wake.

"So? There are some very love good songs. And not all country is corny."

"Really?" I grinned. "Care to back up that statement? After all, the evidence never lies."

"Okay. Care to help clean up this mess first, though? After all, you did make it."

"Fine. But don't think that I will forget."

"Oh, I won't. I'm just thinking of the appropriate song."

"More like searching desperately because there are none!" I couldn't resist teasing him some more.

Gil just shook his head. Sometimes that man is so irritating! I swear, where does he get the control from?

We finished cleaning up the mess in less than two minutes. He replaced the other box in its place in the closet, grabbed a couple of CDs, and walked towards the living room without a word. He placed one in the stereo, and I looked at the case. Tim McGraw.

The music started, and I listened. It was "Live Like You Were Dying." I had heard of it before. I listened wordlessly through the entire song. Wow.

The music stopped, and Gil turned toward me, a smug expression on his face.

"So?"

"Excellent lyrics, I will definitely hand you that. But I am still not convinced."

"You know your problem, Catherine? You are too stubborn." He said in a melodramatic voice.

"Oh, really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, really."

"So, what is going to be my next 'hope to convert Catherine into a country lover' song?"

"You'll see." See? That stupid patience again. I swear, that man drives me insane!

I took the case from his hands, and looked at it as well.

"This time, you will get a more upbeat sample." Was it just me, or did he sound like an infomercial?

"Seriously, Gil."

"Here we are. Lonestar."

The first beats of music started, and I recognized it. I had heard this song before. But Gil likes this song? Wow, I was really going to have some interesting mental images during it... No! Bad Catherine. We are not going to fantasize about Gil right now. Especially right in front of him, for crying out loud! I could wait until later...

I attempted to listen to the song, but the lyrics were doing nothing to help my overactive imagination.

Finally, the song ended. Damn Grissom and his control. His expression gave absolutely nothing away. I wondered if he was as effected by the song as I was. One thing was for sure, I really needed to get out of there before I decided to jump him and to hell with the consequences.

"That was..nice."

"I still haven't convinced you?" He asked, a little too disappointedly to be real.

"Nope. Sorry."

He sighed overdramatically. "Alright. I give up."

I grinned."First the great Gil Grissom listens to country, then he gives up? Are you feeling okay?"

"Haha, Catherine. Yes, I am fine. However, I do need to go. Some people need to sleep."

"Yeah, I should too. I still have laundry to do."

"I guess I will say goodbye then."

"Bye." I couldn't resist. Grabbing my purse, I leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, spun on my heel, and walked out the door, never looking back to see him watching me.

I have a secret of my own. Let him figure it out. As soon as I was a safe distance from his house, I pulled the hidden CD out of my purse, and slid it into the CD player. Gretchen Wilson's "Here For the Party" filtered through the speakers, and I skipped automatically to my favorite song, "Chariot." I then cranked up the volume, singing all the way home.

End


End file.
